Bottoms Up
by thegreatbluespoon
Summary: Sara's mad, Grissom's a fool, and Brass is his accomplice. Oh, and Ecklie is bald. GSR outing.


I know I probably should have done this one before the 'we're now exposed because some crazy bitch kidnapped my girlfriend' episodes, but I didn't...whatever. I see this as a much simpler way to come out to people than what they ended up doing. (You know, less 'fight for your dear life' and whatnot.)

TDCSI...yeah, who the hell else would be able to talk me into posting something like this? Thanks for the help. (I would've hung up if I were you.)

Massive thanks to you all for making my last couple one-shots a success. I truly appreciate the reviews!

* * *

Brass knew as soon as the half-slurred phone call was answered that he was going to have a very long night.

He showed up at around eight. It was a time when he _should've_ been sleeping, but from the words he could make out over the line, the need for him and any help he could supply was strong.

--

Inside, he staggered to the door. He might have been well on his way to forgetting his woes, but he still knew who was knocking at the door.

As he swung the door open, he heard, "Jesus, Gil. What the hell happened?"

"It…she hates me," he sighed.

"Who? Sara?" Brass asked, noticing she wasn't at home.

"Oh, yeeeah," Grissom slurred out as he swaggered back to his couch and took a seat, shortly followed by Brass.

"Well, she had to say something pretty bad before she left if you're still sitting here, trying to float your liver." Brass chuckled.

"This is serious. She hates me. _Hates_ me. Told me so, ya know."

"She did not say _that_. You're exaggerating, Gil. Sara loves you more than she loves anyone else."

"She likes you mores," Grissom added, taking a drink.

"What makes you say that?" Brass asked, eyeing the half empty bottle on the table.

"Uh-cause, you're the only one she's alloweds to know about us. She said she trusted you, but didn't wants the others to know before. I think she's ashamed of me, even though she's been talking about outing us at works now."

"Gil, if she was ashamed of you, then she probably wouldn't openly flirt with you at work, or in the field, in front of everyone…she is _not_ ashamed of you."

"She's still pissed at me," he said, pouring himself another drink.

Brass gave a sigh and looked at the clock. Realizing his day was going to be long, he said, "Pour me some of that and tell me just what it is that you did to make her so mad."

A few swigs of the amber liquid later, and Jim was about to hit Grissom. "Oh, good Lord," he said, shaking his head. "There's no way you said that. Please tell me you didn't say that."

"Yeah. Tolds you she hated me," Grissom said, raising his glass to Brass.

"And it's damn well understandable. You don't _ever_ tell a woman that and you _never_ expect it to all be fine and dandy after your ignorant ass says it."

"Like I knew that. I have the worst record with women…ever. Hell, you remember Elaine?"

"Insane Elaine? Gil, don't ever mention that name again. It reminds me of all the warrants," Brass laughed.

"That lady was off her rocker. You know she tried to stab me one night?"

"No way," Brass said through a laugh. "For what?!"

"I might have mentioned something about her meatloaf beings a bit dry. She did _not_ take that well." Grissom let out a laugh as well.

"Well, this is a bit worse than meatloaf."

Grissom just shrugged, as if not wanting to acknowledge the fact that he had screwed up.

"So where did Sara head off to after your…incident?"

"She yelled something about Hell, but I don't think it had anything to do with where _she _was headed," he said, taking a drink.

Brass sighed. "You gonna to call her? Apologize to her at all, Gil?"

"I tried. She walked out of the house withs a certain finger raised in the air. Now she won't answer her phone."

"Well…the only option I see is for us to drink more and wait for her to call or come home."

"I likes the way you think, Jim." Grissom laughed and began pouring more drinks for the two of them.

Not a good idea…

Not a good idea at all…

The reason that it ended up being quite possibly the worst decision of the night was because they didn't stop drinking until the rest of the bottle was gone. That meant they were drunk… Well, not really drunk-- they were friggin' tanked.

Slurred quotes, anecdotes, baseball stats, and general ideas for getting Rogaine onto Ecklie without him noticing were all thrown around until…somebody (_somebody_ because both of them still deny it was either of them that did it) got the brilliant idea to start making phone calls.

Not a good idea…

Not a good idea at all…

The reason that this was such a bad idea is because they completely gave up on gaining contact with Sara and opted instead for calling Catherine.

"Hello?" She answered, curious as to why Grissom was calling her from his home.

"You're a lady?" came the slurred reply.

"Excuse me?" she asked, re-checking the caller ID.

"You. Are. A. Lady?" Grissom slowly repeated. "Means you can help."

"Gil? Gil, is everything all right with you? You sound trashed…and who is that laughing in the background?"

"Jim. And we've…there's…we have uh, questions for you. I do, he mights not."

Catherine could hear Brass laugh harder and harder as the conversation went on. Grissom asked her what type of things 'women like when their man is a dolt,' what she was wearing, what to get her to apologize for asking her that question, and other things that actually related to his troubles.

Going through their drunkenly awkward conversation, Grissom began to say things that were brilliantly outing without realizing it.

"I don't even know whats her problem is, anyways. Jim says it's not some…uh, thing you say to women, but I don't knows."

"Gil, what are you talking about?"

"I bets Nick," he paused to take a drink. "could have said it and she wouldn't have gottens mad."

"Gil, are you talking about Sara?" she guessed.

"Jiiim!" he yelled to the man at the fridge behind him and waived the phone in the air, "she's smart!"

"Thinks that's why the county hired her?" Brass laughed.

Grissom whispered, "Cath, you can't tell Sara you know."

"I can't tell her that I know what?" she whispered back through a laugh.

"Well, you know," he scoffed, "thats you know she and I are togethers. Other than Jim, she didn't want anyones to know right now."

"Then why did you just tell me?" she asked.

Silence.

Then, "Um…um…can I calls you back?"

"Yeah, sure." She laughed.

Grissom hung up and turned to Brass. "I…it…uh-oh." He groaned and sunk back into the couch, rubbing his hands over his face.

"Where's ice?" Brass asked.

"Ice box," he said through his hands.

Finding what they needed to drink more, Brass grabbed the ice and made his drunken way back over to sit with Grissom. Noting his friend's odd demeanor, he asked "what's up your butt?"

"I think… I'm pretty sure I just told Catherine that Sara and I are together," he said through his hands.

Brass gave a small chuckle that quickly turned into a full out laugh fest. "Oh! OH!" he slapped his leg and laughed harder. "That's…that is so stupid!"

"Gee, ya think?" Grissom said snidely.

When his laughing subsided, Brass said, "Actually, it's perfect."

His arms dropping to his sides in drunken confusion, Grissom waited for Brass to elaborate.

"Think about whats you did tonight, and think about what you could do," Brass said, pouring more alcohol into their glasses than what was really necessary, sloshing some onto the table as he did so. "Expose the relationship like Sara was talking about doin'. Maybe that'll make up for what you did," he shrugged.

Considering the thought for a second, he said, "Jim, you are the smartest man I know. Next to me, of course." Grissom laughed and toasted him with his nearly overflowing glass.

--

A call back to Catherine had exposed the only conscience for the night. She warned against everything they were doing, but they found nothing in her words that sounded like a good warning. Everything sounded like 'blah, blah, blahbitty freaking blah,' to the two of them. Eventually, Catherine gave up on trying to talk them out of their plans. The only thing she stood adamant about was that they not try calling Ecklie until Sara got home.

"Fine, we won't. Who do you suggest?" Grissom asked.

"Sofia," Catherine spat without a second thought.

Grissom laughed, "Easy, killer."

"Well, what'd you expect me to say? Terri got the point, or you did, rather. You and Heather? Yeah, _nothing_ there. But then you got Sofia." Catherine snorted, "Call her and let her ass have it."

Watching his friend's eyes widen in surprise, Brass asked, "What'd she said?"

"Says call Sofia and rip into her." Grissom shrugged.

Brass lost it and grabbed the phone. When he was done laughing, he asked, "What happensed to beins the moral one?"

"Just do it," Catherine said and hung up.

"I think we should," Brass agreed and emptied his glass.

Grissom nodded and finished his glass. "I gotta…um, you know, go. We'll call when I get back," he said and headed towards the bathroom.

"Don't fall in!" Brass laughingly yelled, pouring more liquor out.

When Grissom came back a couple of minutes later, Brass had the drinks and the phone ready. He was more than excited to call Sofia.

"You got speakerphone on that thing, right?" he asked Grissom.

"Uh, I think. Why?"

"Why do you think? I wanna hear both sides of this!" Brass laughed and Grissom shot him a look. "What?"

"You'll be loud," Grissom accused.

"Will not!" Brass laughed and took a drink.

That's all it took to convince Grissom. "Okay," he shrugged. "Fine, but ifs you are, and you ruin this for me, thens you have to grovel to Sara for me for the next week," he said as he dialed the phone.

"Deal."

"Shh!" Grissom whispered when she picked up. "So-Sofia?"

"Yes. Grissom, did you need something?" she asked.

"Heeey!" he exclaimed. "How's it goin'?!"

"Uh…I- I'm afraid I don't…really know. You called me." She gave a shy laugh.

"Nothing…on my end of…you know, _things_," he slurred.

"Grissom, are you…drunk?" she asked, her awesomely hidden accent barely peeking through her words.

"Drunk? _No_," he swore. "I've certainly consumsed an inappropriate amount of liquor, but I personally don't think I'm drunk, no."

"Uh, okay," she said, unbelievingly.

Brass mouthed 'get on with it' to him, so he did.

"Sofium?" he asked.

"Excuse me?"

"I meant Sofa, sorry."

Ignoring the wrong name again because he was obviously tanked, Sofia allowed him to continue.

"I called you…withs…like, sortsa a purpose." She could hear the ice clink in the glass as he set it on the table.

"And that would be?" she encouraged.

"I-"

"He's already doin' someone!" Brass yelled and immediately regretted it. He clamped his hands over his mouth and started laughing.

Sofia gasped and Grissom yelled, "Dumbass!"

"Who's that?" Sofia asked.

"Nothing! No one, I mean!" Grissom yelled as he threw a pillow at Brass. 'Idiot!' he mouthed to him.

Brass' shoulders bounced up and down as he used every ounce of strength he had in him to hold back his laughter.

"Grissom, what's going on?" she asked.

"I…okay, you know how I saids that I had a purpose?"

"Uh, yeah."

"It's ta tell ya not to hit on me anymore," he said in a defiant tone.

She gave and embarrassed sigh. "Oh, my God."

"Exactly."

"Grissom, I-"

"No," he cut her off. "I gotta do this, Sofium. I'm extremely happy right now. I'm calling to tells everyone about Sara and me…I mean, Sara and _I_," he said proudly. "Or is it me?" he muttered.

"Wait, what?" she sounded surprised.

"And then some," he said, though it made no sense, even to Brass. "A bird in the henhouse is six of the other, right?"

Sofia held the phone in front of her and stared at it for a second before she brought it back to her ear and tried again. "Grissom, I-"

"No. No, no, no. Sofa, I know this must be hard on you, but knowings what you know now, you're…you'll get over it withs time," he said in a consoling voice.

"Grissom, I-"

"Sofa, my dear, I hope you can move on." He chuckled. "I'ms a taken man. _Happily_ taken man, Sofa," he corrected.

"Grissom, I-"

He snorted, "Sofa, you really need to work on not interrupting peoples."

She rolled her eyes and quickly continued, "Look, Grissom, I'm not after you."

Brass and Grissom sat and stared at the phone on the table. What the hell was she talking about? Not after Grissom? Bull. Anyone in the lab would give their right arm on a bet saying different. She flirted with the man on a constant loop, so just what the crap was she getting at?

"Hello?" she asked.

"Uh, yeah," Grissom said. Shaking the confusion from his mind, he asked, "What're, uh…what are you talkings about, Sofa?"

"Griss, I'm not after you, I swear. I'm not," she laughed. "I know you're too drunk to remember to tell anyone this to tomorrow, so, uh…look, I only flirt with you to keep attention off Ecklie and myself. It's his idea," she said with the relief of getting something off her chest.

Brass' jaw immediately fell and Grissom's followed shortly after. No way in hell did she just admit to bumping uglies with Ecklie!

Ew!

"Oh," Grissom choked out after a minute.

"Oh?" she laughed.

"That's…well, that's…well…" he cleared his throat. "Well, that's…it's certainly a surprise."

"That you won't tell anyone about?" she asked with massive hope in her voice.

"Oh, of course," he said with a chuckle.

"Well, I need to go, but congratulations about you and Sara. It's been a long time coming. Good luck," she offered before she hung up.

"Ew," Brass said.

"I know," Grissom said. "Why would someone do that?"

"I don't know," Brass laughed. "You know you kept callings her 'Sofa,' right?"

"Who'd I call that?" Grissom asked, clearly confused.

"Never mind, we have to call Cath back."

--

Not a good idea…

Not a good idea at all…

The bad thing about that was that they told her about 'Sofa' and Ecklie. Every time Catherine brought up _not_ calling Ecklie to harass him about it, it only made Brass want to do it more. Grissom was in absolutely no position to argue when Brass told him to dial the number for one Conrad Ecklie.

Catherine yelled at them and made them swear not to do it. They did promise, of course, but when she had to get off the phone, they were right back on it, dialing in Ecklie's number.

"No speakerphone?" Brass asked with a sad face.

"Not after last time," Grissom snapped. "You lost your privel…priv…speakerphone," He said, putting the phone to his ear.

Brass gave a huff and headed towards the kitchen again.

After three or four rings, Ecklie finally picked up. "What, Gil? I'm in the middle of something."

"And good goddamn day to you too, Conrad," Grissom laughed, catching Brass' attention.

"What, Gil?" Ecklie tried again.

"I gotta talks to you." He tried to keep his words straight, but he didn't do a very good job.

"Gil, did you just call me while you're drunk?" he asked incredulously.

"Perhaps," Grissom replied, taking another drink.

"What the hell is the matter with you?!"

"Like I tolds Sofa, a bird in the henhouse is like six halves of the other bush." He shrugged, though Ecklie couldn't see it.

"What the hell does that mean? Who's Sofa?"

Brass stood in the kitchen, drunkenly eyeing the phone in his friend's hand. Ooh, how he wanted to give the man on the other end a piece of his mind…

"Oh, I thinks you know…you know just who Sofium is, Conroad." Grissom gave a sly laugh into the receiver.

"Whatever. Just tell me what you wanted so I can get back to work."

"I have to tells you something. It's a _big_ something."

"And?" Ecklie asked.

Grissom never got the chance to tell him. Brass was over the edge of the couch in a matter of seconds, stealing the phone from Grissom in the process.

"Ecklie?" he asked in a commanding voice.

"Who's this?" Ecklie asked.

"Don't matter. Just know that you _suck_!" Brass yelled into the phone.

Ecklie's eyebrows shot up far enough that, any farther, and they probably would've found his hairline…as impossible as that seems. "_Excuse me_?!"

"That's right. You heard me. You _suck_, buddy boy," Brass spat and Grissom just sighed, seeing as there was nothing he could do since Brass had taken the phone and crawled halfway across the room with it.

"Who the hell is this? Put Grissom back on the phone," Ecklie demanded.

"No. I wanna tells you somethin' else. I don't like you," Brass laughed. "I never have. I always thoughts you was a fugly excuse for a guy, and I _hate_ your bald ass!" he yelled into the phone and laughed some more, trying not to fall as he stood up.

"Is this Jim? Brass, this had better not be you!" Ecklie warned.

"Uh…no. This is not Jim. This is…my name is…is _Tim_. Yeah. Tim," Brass said in the most unconvincing tone ever used by anyone before he gave the phone back to Grissom. "All yours, bud," he whispered.

Grissom shot Brass a look and took the phone. "Ecklie, you stills there?"

"Gil, you tell Brass that I'm gonna have his ass!"

"Yeah. Yeah, I'll get rights on that." Grissom sighed, "Looks, I really did calls you for a reason."

"Then just tell me. I'm really busy."

"I'm dating someone," Grissom said with a smile. Well, that was a lot easier than he'd expected it to be. Sara was surely going to be proud of him.

"Congratulations, Gil," Ecklie said flatly, obviously preoccupied with something else.

"Oh, no. No, you don't get it," Grissom laughed. "She's from the lab."

Ecklie sighed, "Aw, hell."

"It's Sara," Grissom said, tons of pride filling him as he told Ecklie about the two of them.

"Why'd you have to tell me this? Especially while you're drunk?" Ecklie complained. "You know you two are in for it, right?"

"I wouldn't haves expected anythings less from you, Conrad."

"Both of you, my office, one hour before shift tomorrow," He said, then mumbled something about 'goddamned, horny, bug lovin' something-or-others,' and told Grissom they'd both better be there or bad things would happen. He also reminded him to tell Brass that he wouldn't soon be forgetting about the conversation with him, either.

After he hung up, Grissom turned to Brass. "Did you smoke something before you came here?"

Brass shrugged. "I…don't know what cames over me."

"Obviously," Grissom snorted.

"Should…um, you think we should call Catherine?"

"My end wents pretty well…but you screwed it up." Grissom scowled. "She tolds us not to call and she'd just use it as a 'tolds ya so' against us."

"True," Brass agreed.

After a while of silence, only broken by the sound ice against glass made when one would take a drink, Grissom asked what they were supposed to do then.

"I dunno." Brass gave a bored shrug. "Wanna try calling Sara?"

"She won't answer it."

"Use my cell," Brass suggested, pulling it from his pocket.

"Drunken genius!" Grissom declared and dialed her number.

"Speakerphone!" Brass demanded.

Ignoring Brass, Grissom went on with the call. Sara didn't answer it, so he quickly handed it to Brass, ordering him to leave a voicemail for her.

"Uh, yeah. Sara, it's me. I…I'm at your house. You're not here. Obviously. Um…you should be. I wanna talk to you. It's about…stuff. Stuff…like…vegetarian stuff." Brass shrugged at Grissom who was giving him a look of 'what the hell are you talking about?'

He hung up and Grissom slumped back into the couch and sighed.

"What?" Brass asked innocently.

"What the hell kind of message was _that_, Jim?"

"I didn't knows I was going to forced to leave one! I was on the spot." He scoffed, "I think my acting job was damn fine, thank you very much."

"Just brilliant," Grissom feigned agreement through a yawn.

"What if she doesn't call back?"

"I dunno."

"We're out of drinks," Brass said, attempting to pour out the last of the liquor in the bottles on the table. Slumping back into his seat just like his friend, Brass gave a yawn, too.

--

Sara walked into the house two hours later to see Brass and Grissom passed out and snoring loudly in the living room.

Their phones were on the table, sitting in small puddles of some type of liquid she assumed to be alcohol, judging from the empty bottle on the table, and the one stuffed in the cushion next to Brass.

Thinking of Grissom's comment to her earlier in the night, she gave a huff at the sight and headed upstairs to bed. They could clean up their own damn mess.

A couple hours later, Sara was woken up by her phone going off. Checking the ID, she saw that it was Catherine and became a little pissed because she wasn't even on call.

"What, Cath?" she answered sleepily.

"Oh, Sara, thank God!" Catherine exclaimed.

"Catherine, it is way too early to be this excited over anything…other than Ecklie's resignation. What?"

"You…may want to…put your gun away," Catherine warned.

"It's on the other side of the room," Sara said, sitting up in the bed. "Catherine, what the hell is going on?"

"Please don't kill Gil."

Sara sighed, "Just tell me."

"He…made some phone calls last night."

A curious look found its way to Sara's face. "Well, what kind of phone calls?"

"Um…well, drunken ones," Catherine sighed.

"To?"

"Me. And…some other people." Catherine dare not tell Sara what she knew. She had just gotten off the phone with Sofia.

"What did he say?"

"Uh…well…"

"Catherine, what did Grissom say?" Sara demanded.

Catherine let out a snicker. "Let's just say that I have a pretty good idea about where you are right now."

--

After her conversation with Catherine ended, Sara got dressed and headed downstairs. Both men were still passed out and Sara figured they would have horrendous hangovers when they woke up, so she did nothing to keep quiet.

Slamming cabinets and drawers along the way, Sara got coffee brewing and breakfast made for herself. Sitting down at the dining table to eat it, she still had a view of Grissom as he woke up, clearly in pain from the night before.

Groaning as he sat up, he grabbed his head with one hand and threw a pillow at Brass with the other. Brass snorted and continued to sleep.

"Mornin', sunshine," Sara said flatly.

"Not…so…loud," he whispered.

"What was that?" she asked, her voice rising a little bit with each word.

"Please. Just…quiet," he begged and rubbed his head.

"It's just a hangover, Grissom. It's not like there won't be more," she said, the words sounding awfully familiar to him.

"Okay, I think I know what that means."

"You should. You _would_ if you didn't nearly drink yourself into a coma last night."

"It wasn't _that_ bad," he groaned as his words were a little too loud.

"Really?" she asked. "Well, what did you two do last night?"

He shrugged. "You left and I called Jim. He came over and we drank too much."

"Make any…I don't know, phone calls, Grissom?" She said, standing up from the table to take her dishes to the sink.

Eyeing the phones on the table in front of him, he asked, "Why would we call people?"

"Oh, I don't know. Probably to out us to _Ecklie_!" she yelled, making him wince and Brass snort again.

His eyes widened and small memories found their way to his mind. '_Both of you, my office, one hour before shift tomorrow._'

"What the hell were you thinking?!" she yelled again.

"Um…I think I was thinking you would be happy?" he guessed. Like he actually remembered what was going through his mind.

"About you drunkenly confessing to our co-workers about us?" she huffed. "Grissom, I want people to know about us, but not because you get drunk and feel like you need to make up for being a jerk."

"I told you I was sorry last night. If you would have accepted it, then I wouldn't have gotten drunk," he tried.

"So this is _my_ fault?" she asked unbelievingly.

"It was just an anniversary." He shrugged.

"That's what you said last night. 'It's just an anniversary, it's not like there aren't more.'" she quoted.

"So you're mad?" he asked.

"Uh, ya think?" she snapped.

"Can you hold off on killing me for a while?" Checking his watch, he said, "we have to be in Ecklie's office in two hours."

Rolling her eyes, Sara turned and headed upstairs.

Grissom knew better than to follow right behind her, so he went over to make sure Brass was still among the living. Grabbing the pillow out from under his head, Grissom hit him over the head with it as hard as he could and told him to wake up. When Brass merely made a noise, but didn't wake, Grissom said, "Some help you are. Sara's gonna kill me!" before he headed up to get ready himself.

When he got to the bedroom, he noticed that Sara was in the bathroom. Figuring that more groveling couldn't hurt, he went over and knocked on the door.

"I'm busy!"

"Sara? Sara, can I come in? I just want to talk," he nearly begged.

"I'm getting ready to take a shower!" she yelled through the door.

"I'm coming in, okay!" he warned and opened the door. When he did, Sara yelled something and covered herself up. "It's not like it's something I've never seen before," he said with a smile.

"Keep it up and you won't be seeing anything for a long time," she warned.

Ignoring the threat, Grissom went on with his goal. "Sara, I'm sorry. I didn't know it was so important to you."

"It's an anniversary, why wouldn't it be?"

Taking a moment to think out his apology, he formed the perfect sad face to go along with it. "Sara, I know it was stupid for me to say that, but I didn't totally forget it. I was tired...and I just let it slip my mind." He sighed, "Why don't we go to dinner tonight before work?"

"We have to go to Ecklie's," she reminded.

"Then we'll go whenever you'd like. You name it and we'll do it," he promised.

She considered his offer before responding, "For starters, I'm _not_ cleaning that mess up downstairs."

He laughed. "I'll go do that right now."

"And no more getting drunk with Brass," she added.

"But-"

"No. More. Getting. Drunk. With. Brass," she repeated. "Drinking is one thing, drunken phone calls are another."

Letting out a disappointed sigh, he nodded in agreement.

"Okay," she said.

"Okay? What's okay?" he asked.

"You're not totally forgiven, but...maybe a little bit."

"No way!" he laughed. "I mean...that's great. Great, really."

"Consider it as a probationary period," she warned. "This meeting with Ecklie had better go a hell of a lot better than your phone call to him last night."

"How'd you know I called him?" Grissom asked.

"Sofia called and told Catherine," Sara offered.

"But...how did Sofia know I called Ecklie?"

--

They each got cleaned up and ready for work. Sara said she'd be down in a minute, so Grissom went on down. Seeing Brass awake and in a hangover daze, Grissom couldn't help but laugh at him.

"We should call Sara," Brass mumbled.

"How do you remember anything?" Grissom asked.

"You drank more than me. Hell, you were drunk when I showed up," Brass laughed and instantly regretted it, the pain in his head increasing when he did.

"Well, I don't need to call Sara."

"She call back last night?" Brass asked hopefully.

"No. She's upstairs. I just talked to her."

"And you're still alive?!"

"She's not that mad at me," Grissom said proudly. "I'm on probation."

"So you're good to go?"

"Yes, so long as I don't ever get drunk with you anymore." Grissom frowned.

Brass scoffed, "Well, I hardly see whereas _that's_ fair."

"Of course it is," Sara said, making her way into the living room. "I'm ready. You?"

Grissom sighed and looked at the empty bottles in front of him. "Too bad we drank it all last night," he said as he stood. "I could sure use a drink to take the edge off."

* * *

Yeah...so that was fun.

I did my thing, you go do yours.

thegreatbluespoon


End file.
